The Tener Family

This is a journal kept by Dennis Holmes and friends concerning the Tener Family.
The links below will take you to the "Tener Blue Book" - "TENER: A History of the Family in France, Ireland and America"; and to a Finding Aid.

NEW! Tener Eckelberry: A Life
NEW! The Art of Renee Duke, Tener Eckelberry's First Wife
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The Tener Book
Finding Aid
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Thursday, April 27, 2006

John Frost TENER 1868 - 1948

From the TBB we have learned that John was one of the sons of Hampden Evans Tener Sr. He was born at Allan House, County Tyrone, Ireland. He emigrated to the USA in 1882 with his older brother Hampden E. Tener Jr. They grew up in Pittsburgh.

John's first employment was with H. B. Scutt & Co. He later would become secretary to George Westinghouse, who sent him to Arizona to investigate copper properties there. After leaving Mr. Westinghouse's employ, John operated a mining supply business in Nogales, Arizona. After that he remained interested in the mining business - mining and mine properties, for the remainder of his life.

John remained in the West after the death of his first wife, Virginia Simpson of Wheeling, W. VA., by whom he had two children - Virginia and John Jr.

John later moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, and thence to New Westminister, B.C. where he married his second wife - Kathleen Joy, and with whom he had another son - Patrick.

John Frost Tener died in New Westminister in 1948 at the age of 79 years.

Now, what we did not learn from the TBB, is that John F. Tener authored at least one book of poetry. This book, titled "CALLING ALL FREE MEN", was copyrighted and printed in Canada in 1941 - as the world was going to war. The book was published by Murphy & Chapman Limited, Vancouver, B.C., and was "Dedicated to H.E.T." - whom I believe was his father - and not his brother.

J. F. Tener wrote in the book's forward, "In times of great mental and spirital stress the deep feelings of the human heart cannot be fully expressed, . . . (and) If any words of mine should add one spark to the flame of British patroitism which in this tremendous hour brings light to dark places of the earth and illuminates even the shining sky, I shall not have wrought in vain".

I just received permission form the grandson of the poet - through a family intermediary, to post some of this poetry. I have selected two poems which I think are interesting, well written, and in these times - with the international 'War on Terrorism', again contemporary. Please, enjoy the writings of our relative, John Frost Tener:

Send forth thy sons, Brittannia calls
To all her children whereever they may be,
On highest mountains, broadest plain or farthest sea;
Telling dark Moloch's mighty host is passing by,
Shaking the earth, careening down the sky.
Tyranny and Rapine are abroad again.
Twin Captains these. Their purpose to attain,
This once fair world is reeking with the dead.
Peace from the earth has fled. The sands
Of life's happiness are all but sped.
Send forth thy sons. Nor shed one tear,
Save in the sheltered cloisters of thy heart.
Hold high the flag, that flag that knows no fear,
The red cross gleaming on its milk-white field,
The symbol of our faith, our hope, our shield.
Send forth thy sons. Britannia stands alone,
'Twixt weaker nations and the Teuton might;
She fronts the foe to save them, yet stands alone,
Repels assault by day and fearsome night;
No one to stand at wither hand -- she fights alone.
Send forth thy sons. Britannia needs them all.
By them shall Freedom stand or fall.
This is the fateful day, the zero hour,
Let Britons prove to all Britannia's power,
Hark! 'Tis the bugle call. Send forth thy sons!
It is the day of fate.
the time has come
To end debate,
And take with firm resolve
one way alone.
Either to bide at home,
To join the chitter chatter
About things that do not matter
When trumpets call ---
The betting odds,
Just where to dine,
The brand of wine,
The newest dance,
The debutantes,
The golfing score,
And many more;
And so to spend my life
Sheltered and safe,
While others wage the strife
That keeps me safe.
Or join the ranks of those
Who leave their all,
The cottar's humbel home,
The lordling's hall,
High hearted, conscience free,
To fight for liberty.
And should I fall,
One glorious hour of death
Is more than all
The years of endless chatter
About things that do not matter
When trumpets call.
I can only add that I do wish I knew more about John Frost tener.